


Natasha's Darling Phoenix

by The Wicked Symphony (SymphonyWizard)



Category: Black Widow (Movie 2020), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angry Mom - Freeform, Elementary School, F/M, Gen, Guilt, Instagram, Natasha is a good mom, Protective Natasha Romanov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24558229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymphonyWizard/pseuds/The%20Wicked%20Symphony
Summary: Natasha has been called to the principal's office.Again.This time it's not James she is upset with.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov & James Rogers, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 16
Kudos: 150





	Natasha's Darling Phoenix

Natasha wishes she could say that being called to the school was an unusual occurrence for her. Sadly it isn’t. If she could go one month without getting a call from the school, she would be the happiest mom in the world. It would make her happier than any Mother’s Day card.

Actually, that might be pushing it. Both her children and her husband have given her wonderful Mother’s Day cards. Her five-year-old daughter is a born artist just like her father. Some five-year-olds scribble and sometimes can’t even fill a coloring book coherently. Not her daughter. Her daughter has a long way to go, but she drew a person that actually looks like a person. For last Mother’s Day, her daughter drew a picture of their family. It wasn’t bad at all. If she continues to nurture that talent, the people she draws might rival her father’s exquisite art. 

James, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have inherited his father’s artistic skills. Lately he has been feeling really bad about it. So much so that Natasha has wondered more than once if it’s part of the reason for his misbehavior. In the last couple years, the sweet boy has been growing into a hothead. Though, strangely, he’s a well-meaning hothead. 

The last time Natasha was called to the principal’s office, it was because James had assaulted a kid. James might be misbehaved, but he’s no liar. Not with her, at least. He’s actually a very good liar, but he is also honest when he wants to be. He’s honest with his family. When he explained that he assaulted a kid because that kid was being mean to a little girl, she believed him. There were some witnesses to corroborated James’s story, including a teacher who was monitoring the playground. However, the kid happened to be the principal’s son. 

Natasha isn’t sure how much longer she can sit through some woman telling her that her kid is a bad boy in need of a “good, old-fashioned spanking.” She has never laid a hand on her children. She and Steve come from generations when spanking wasn’t unusual, but she can’t remember her parents, and Steve’s mother never laid a hand on him. She put on a smile and told the principal that she would give her son a strong reprimand, but she wanted to do something far worse. 

James is just like his father. He doesn’t like bullies, but sometimes it seems like he looks for trouble. What did he do this time? Did he thigh-grab a kid? James isn’t a big kid, but he’s tougher than most kids his age. Besides being a very healthy boy thanks to both his parents’ serums flowing through his veins—as well as being well-fed—he’s also a natural fighter. Natasha barely gave him a few lessons and he has picked up some of her fighting skills like he’s been doing it for years.

It’s only a matter of time before he can take on her and his father. 

There is something he can be proud of. He might not be a born artist, but he’s a born fighter. That has to count for something. But lately, she and Steve have been having trouble helping him to feel good about himself. He’s too young for angst! He hasn’t even hit puberty yet. 

As Natasha parks her Corvette—which by now could be considered a classic—she takes a deep breath. She checks herself in the vanity mirror on her overhead flap. She primps her hair a little. Usually she likes to go for the “cool mom” look, as her son calls it with her red hair in loose waves. Today, she’s looking more professional with her hair in a tight up-do, but with some loose bangs framing her face. She feigns age with her blonde streaks; she ages too slowly.

She clears her throat and gets out of the car, straightening her blazer and grabbing her handbag. With a sigh, she heads into the building. As she passes empty classrooms, she sees computers in each of them. At the start of the year, each student had been assigned a tablet.

They sure don’t teach children the way they used to. She and Steve have been teaching their children to read and write in cursive, as well as how to appreciate printed books. Their children can definitely know how to use electronics, but they aren’t going to be dependent on them. James isn’t even going to get his first cellphone until he’s sixteen. Until, then, he’s perfectly capable of going to the office if he needs to call his parents. 

Still, the little boy is starting to pick up on some computer skills. It’s probably only a matter of time before he figures out how to hack. She passes a few stragglers on her way to the office. Mostly, they are staff as well as some kids who might be staying late because their parents aren’t home. She passes a man stepping out of his classroom with his bag and he gives her a lewd smile as she passes by. 

Natasha absently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear with her left hand, showing her wedding ring. She has always been used to men being instantly smitten by her looks, but she is spoken for. There is only one man she would ever allow to take her to bed, let alone touch her, and he’s at home making lasagna.

She quickly makes her way to the principal’s office. Once she gets to the lobby, she doesn’t even wait for the receptionist to announce her. She just goes straight for the office. When she opens the door, she spots her son before she notices the principal. James is sitting with one leg hooked over the other in a very unmanly manner. 

She takes a moment to regard him thoughtfully. He’s wearing a child-sized biker’s jacket with a faux fur collar, dark blue jeans and dark red Converses. He sits quietly with his hands in his lap. Instead of looking defiant or sassy, he looks…sad. Why does he look sad?

She hears someone clear their throat. She looks up and meets the eye of Principal Denise Richards. Not for the first time, Natasha feels like she is at the opposite end of an old Western showdown when looking at this woman. She’s not sure who hated who first, but she started hating this principal when she discovered she was flirting with her husband. Not that Steve was clever enough to notice.

It was James who informed her that his principal was being flirtatious with his father. According to him, Principal Richards is always a top-button sort of woman, but whenever Steve is around, her breasts are visible. James is a very observant boy, but he does not yet know the word “cleavage.” 

Natasha accepts that other women find her husband attractive, but she doesn’t care for women who make such an effort to flirt with him.

She puts on a sweet smile. “Principal Richards how are you today?” she asks politely.

“Take a seat, Mrs. Rogers,” says Principal Richards. Her tone makes it clear that she is in no mood for small talk.

Natasha does as she is asked, albeit slowly, her eyes never leaving Principal Richards. She tears her eyes off of the woman to look at her son. She places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it lovingly. “ _What’s the matter, my darling phoenix_?” she asks in Russian. “ _What did you do this time_?”

James’s eyes turn towards her and she sees that his right eye is blackened. He looks down into his lap again miserably. Worried, Natasha grips his chin with her other hand and gently turns his face towards her. 

“ _Jamie, what happened_?” she demands.

Before he can answer her, Principal Richards interjects. “Speak English, please,” she says, exasperated. “I already have to deal with this little brat talking in Russian; I don’t need to listen to you speaking it too.”

Natasha sits up straighter and crosses her arms. “I am Russian, and my son is half-Russian,” she points out. “Unless you’re telling me that he’s acting like he can’t speak or understand English—both of which I daresay he understands better than many of the kids in this school—sounds like you’re just being…” she turns to her son. “Sweetie, what word would you use for it?”

James looks up again. “Um…vindictive?” he asks. 

Natasha smiles her approval. “That is an excellent word choice.” She turns back to the principal and her smile disappears. “You are just being vindictive.”

Principal Richards shakes her head and slams her hand on the desk. “I don’t have time for precocious vocabulary, Mrs. Rogers,” she snaps. “Your son is here because broke a classmate’s nose. And it was my son, by the way. I don’t know why, but it seems like your son is out to get my son.”

“He called me a dust mite!” screams James, rising out of his chair and leaning forward on the desk. “He found out that I’m only kid in our grade that was turned to dust in the Snap and he shared an animated photo of me turning to dust on his Instagram!”

Natasha’s eyes narrow. The term has become a trendy insult for kids, or anyone who was a victim of the original Snap. “What?” she asks, her anger barely contained. “What’re you talking about?”

James turns around and grabs her purse. He takes out her phone and opens it. She’s going to have to remember to change the passcode, but also knows that it will only be a matter of time before he finds out the new one. His fingers swipe and tap here and there, but soon he finds what he is looking for. He holds the phone out to Natasha. 

She takes it from him and looks at the post. What she sees makes her blood boil. It’s originally a photo of James in boy’s ballet tights and he’s in a pose with his leg sticking gracefully in the air. James’s first ballet audition was a few days ago. He was so excited to be joining the school’s ballet class, having studied with her from the time he could walk. Well this Richards kid must have caught a picture of him and used one of those picture animation apps to make it look like his body was fading into dust. 

Under a different context, she would think that it was very impressive, beautiful even. That thought evaporates when she sees the caption and the hashtags. 

_Hey, Iron Man, I think you missed a spot when you Snapped away_

_Thanos’s army. The Commie ballet boys are still around smh_

_#Snap2019 #reverseSnap2023 #IronManhero #communists_

_#loser #balletisnotforboys #balletsucks…_

Natasha can’t read anymore her fury is barely contained. “Principal Richards are you aware that your son shared this post?” she asks in measured tones. She shows the woman her phone.

Principal Richards looks at the photo and something that sounds suspiciously like a snort escapes her lips before she can stop herself. “That’s no excuse for breaking my son’s nose,” she says. “I’m finding very little reason not to expel your son.”

Natasha winces at the word. She looks at James. “Sweetie, will you wait outside for me?” she asks. “ _Mama needs to have a chat with your principal_ ,” she adds in Russian.

James manages a smile and obeys her. Once he is out the door, Natasha turns back to the principal. “Okay, you listen to me, bitch,” she starts off in her most authoritarian voice. She sits very straight. “You are not going to expel my son.”

“Oh no?” challenges Principal Richards. “And why wouldn’t I?”

“Because he is brighter than most of the kids in this school and he has only lashed out when provoked,” she says. “As for your son…” she scoffs. “Well, he’s a just a good-for-nothing bully.”

Principal Richards’ nostrils flare. “Well, at least, none of my children were victims of the Snap,” she says. “Your son would be what? Thirteen?” She starts laughing. 

Natasha leaps over the table and pounces on the woman. In blinding movement, she is standing behind the principal with her hand gripping the woman’s chin in a vice grip. “Now I am going to say this once,” she says in a low voice. “You are going to expel _your_ son, or I will go to the school board and tell them that you are exhibiting favoritism. I will make sure you never get a job as an educator again. Do I make myself clear?”

The principal whimpers under her grip. She nods vigorously. “Yes,” she says with a gulp. “Let me go, you crazy bitch!”

Natasha’s grip tightens as she brings her lips close to the woman’s ear. “And a couple other things: never look at my husband again or I will gouge out your eyes. And two, don’t ever talk to or about my son like that again or I will cut out your heart.” She releases her grip violently, making the woman yelp. She walks back around the desk, stepping on some of the fallen objects indiscriminately. She picks up her purse and turns to the principal. 

“Have a pleasant evening, Principal Richards,” she says sweetly. “ _Do svidaniya_.” She leaves the office and finds James waiting obediently in the hall. 

She sighs and sits down with him.

“ _Mama, does it upset you that I’m not five years older_?” James asks miserably in Russian.

Natasha narrows her eyes and sees her own green eyes staring back. She sighs and wraps an arm around him, bringing him closer. “ _I do get sad sometimes_ ,” she admits, continuing in Russian. “ _It was the worst day of my life when I found out that you had turned to dust._ ” She kisses the top of his head while ruffling his thick red hair. He has such beautiful wavy hair. “ _But that’s why you’re my darling phoenix. Do you remember what’s special about phoenixes_?”

She can feel James smiling. “ _They are reborn from the ashes_ ,” he replies. 

“ _Correct, and that’s what happened to you_ ,” says Natasha. “ _You came back from the ashes._ ” She uses her other hand to tilt his face upward to meet her eye again. “Why don’t you continue studying ballet under me, okay?” she suggests. 

James smiles up at her. “ _May I please_?” he asks politely. “ _You teach it better and you’re way cooler_.”

“Oh you know I am,” she says, touching his nose with her index finger with a click of her tongue. “Now, I don’t know about you, but you’ve had a bad day and Mama wants to take her phoenix shopping and for some ice cream. What do you say?”

There’s that big Rogers grin she had been waiting for as her son smiles up at her. “Can I drive?” he asks in English. 

“No,” she replies simply. They laugh together as they stand up and leave the school hand in hand. 


End file.
